


Tumblr Posts

by godotco



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 02:57:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16884345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/godotco/pseuds/godotco
Summary: Some old works crossposted from tumblr





	1. Snapshots from a (much) later future

  * An apartment for two. Crystalline figures, lined up an equal distance apart from each other, kept in a glass case in the study room, away from the cats.


  * An exy racquet signed ‘Knox’, in the back of a closet filled with various workout clothes. An XXL sized t-shirt hangs from one of the plastic hangers, jutting out incongruously from the smaller sized clothing. On it are the faded words ‘World’s Best Dad’, ‘Coach’ written underneath it in parentheses. It still smells like smoke.


  * A trophy case in an empty locker room, freshly cleaned after a match. It’s filled to the brim with medals and trophies. On the same wall, an overcrowded collection of photos. Everyone in them is smiling if you squint your eyes and tilt your head.


  * An urn filled with ash, built to be the centerpiece of a fountain in front of the house. If you look closely, you might see engraved on it, 'In loving memory of Bryan Seth Gordon’. 


  *  Various bottles of half used brightly colored hair dye sitting in a box to be shipped out. The owner doesn’t need them anymore. The little girl she’s been writing to needs them more.


  * A stuffed fox plushie tucked into the bed of at least 3 different children, all of whom’s parents will never forget the nostalgia of their college days.


  * A set of black arm bands beneath a pillow. The color has faded to gray, but the 'To Robin’ written in Sharpie on the inner label hasn’t. 


  *  A set of black arm bands tucked away in the back of a drawer. They haven’t seen light in a while. Neither have the knives hidden inside them.




	2. Moments

Moments before a game. Foreheads touching. A hand on a neck. A breath held in silence. A breath released.

A mirror. A twin. A clock ticking on the wall. Steam rising from a mug of hot chocolate. A bee. A breath held in silence. A brother. A breath released.  _His_  brother.

A breath. Knives. Held in. A punch. A breath. White hair and a cross. A smile. Released.

Night. A breath. A knife. A patch of fur. A breath held in. Hands reaching in the dark. The air too heavy. Too tight. Too heavy. Too tight too heavy too tight too.   
Silence.  
A breath . A familiar face. A breath. A familiar smile. A breath released.

A winding road. A revving engine. Different night. Different city. A breath held in silence. Cigarettes and drinks in between. A kiss.

A breath released.

A breath shared.


	3. A problem

The first time Andrew sees Neil, he thinks: this could be a problem. He thinks: threat. He thinks: warning. He thinks. 

Output: _“I’m not a math problem.”_  

He thinks: This boy is a problem that doesn’t add up. Or maybe Andrew isn’t as smart as he thought he was. 

He thinks: he’ll still solve him  _anyway_. 

Partial answers. Half truths. Truth for truth. Truth=truth. Sunrise, Abram, Death. 

He thinks: “ _I am not your answer and you sure as fuck aren’t mine.”_  There’s a missing variable somewhere that they both lack. The answer can not possibly lie here.

He thinks: 90%. 91,92,93… This problem that keeps  _giving_  and these answers that keep  _changing_. 

And suddenly the answer doesn’t fucking matter. Not when the problem itself is  _missing._ Suddenly, he’s  _gone._ And Andrew isn’t sure where to look for it.

He blinks and suddenly it’s there, just as it was. Waiting to be found. Hidden in the jumble of words and numbers and  _Thank you, you were amazing._

He thinks: 100. 

He doesn’t like the answer he gets. 

He hates it. 


End file.
